Covenants (44 page)

I was pondering daily chocolate drinks and it took a minute to realize that the conversation had stopped and everyone was looking at Suiden with varying degrees of wariness and hostility. Everyone except the vice admiral.

"The two best things that have ever come out of Tural," Havram agreed as he forked up a bite. "Though that's putting the cat among the pigeons with a vengeance, Your Highness."

Laurel chuffed briefly, his eyes slitting.

"Yes, sir." Suiden took another sip of coffee. "But as I haven't been in Tural for twenty years and have been in the Royal Army for almost as long, I think it's obvious that my ties with the land of my birth have been severed. Nor have I hidden that I once had them.”

Port wine and a platter of cheese had also been provided and Laurel Faena had opted for both. He speared a couple of pieces of cheese and transferred them to his plate. "I believe that would be rather hard to do, honored captain." He rumbled, a cross between a purr and a laugh. "I thought the ship's crew was going to have kittens this afternoon when you reminded them that you were once a Turalian sea captain. Clan marks, earrings, tattoos, and all."

I became very interested in my cake.

"How do you mean, Ambassador?" one of the senior captains of the fleet asked.

"Come, now," the vice admiral said, sipping his own coffee. "Didn't you see His Highness' ship yaw?" He glanced over at Suiden. "What happened?"

"A course correction, sir," Suiden replied.

"Oh, aye." The vice admiral set his cup down. "A very drastic one, if I'm any judge.”

"Yes. I've relieved the helmsman of his duties until he learns how to steer properly." Suiden shifted in his chair. "May I ask, sir, what's the situation out here?”

"I must admit, Vice Admiral, that I too would like to know," Chancellor Berle said as she sipped her wine.

"It's tense. Very tense." Havram finished the last of his cake and put his fork down. "It hasn't come to an actual fight, but there has been a lot of posturing and sword rattling. Our merchants have been chased and threatened with boarding. Twice in the past month we've come upon Turalian warships where they shouldn't have been, and have had to shoo them back. Fortunately, they allowed themselves to be shooed.”

A thought emerged and Suiden looked over at me. "You wish to say something, Lieutenant?”

Chancellor Berle frowned, but I ignored her. "Yes, Captain. Remember Dornel?”

"Isn't that a checkpoint on the Banson, Rabbit?" Havram asked.

"Yes, sir," I replied. "They were having problems too, with rumors of pirate attacks. Come to find out it was all a diversion so that the smugglers could get their goods through easier. It could be that the Turalians are doing the same.”

"A pretty elaborate diversion for what? Some lumber?" one of the captains remarked.

"Choice hardwood, pelts, skins, ivory, and slaves," Havram replied before I could. "Even a dragon hoard." He looked back at me. "So you think that the Turalians may be doing a 'look over here,' as they slip smuggled goods through somewhere else?"

"Maybe, sir. It worked in Dornel.”

"Damn them for bilge scum," Havram said, "and I bet that Gherat gave them every plan for deployment that we ever had, him and Admiral Noal being such great drinking buddies."

The silence was politically fraught.

The vice admiral laughed. "Oh, many of the officers drank with Gherat. He was a very convivial companion and knew where all the good taverns were.”

Startled at the thought of the Lord Admiral and Gherat in a dockside tavern, I spoke before I thought.

"Really, sir? Admiral Noal too?"

A captain choked, spraying coffee across the table.

The vice admiral's face stayed affable. "You know, lad, your papa had the same problem with his foot and his mouth."

"Yes, sir.”

"Well," Uncle Havram said, taking pity on me and changing the subject, "talking won't get us to the Border any sooner." Pushing away from the table, he stood, and everyone scrambled to do the same.

"Everyone prepare to sail tomorrow at first light.”

Once again Havram played the good host, escorting us to the gangway and standing there as the captains descended to their boats. And once again, I was last. I stood alone with him as I waited for the bosun's chair's return.

"You know, Rabbit, I would've had you reassigned to my ship for a number of reasons," Havram remarked, "including the very selfish one that you're my brother's son. But the king's directive was clear: You are to stay with the cat and the Turalian sea dragon—" He grinned as he saw my start. "Oh, aye, the man is something else, no mistake about it. He would have my captains for breakfast, ships and all." He paused. "Have you ever seen him truly angry?”

"A couple of times, sir, and I was glad it wasn't directed at me"

"I bet, lad.”

"But he's a good captain," I hastened to add. "I've been under his command since I joined—"

"Freston Mountain Patrol, the insult of it!”

"I don't mind, sir." The bosun's chair arrived and I went to sit on it, but the vice admiral stopped me.

"I have a berth for you if you ever wish to join me here, Rabbit. The king's instructions can go begging.”

"Thank you, sir, but I'm fine." I kept to myself that if I were to join my uncle, Suiden and Laurel would come and retrieve me bodily.

Uncle Havram's blue eyes searched my face. "All right," he said. "But remember that. I'll not have another kinsman forced into something at someone else's whim." He then smiled and clapped me on my shoulder.

"Down with you, lad, lest yon dragon starts breathing fire and smoke at the fear of losing part of his hoard.”

To Foreign Chancellor Berle's extreme annoyance, instead of escorting us directly to the Border, the Pearl Fisher led us to another group of ships.

"We are trying to prevent a war, Captain Suiden," she told him as they stood together on the bridge. "We do not have time to ferry messages about bully boys playing posturing games.”

"More than 'posturing games,' Sra Berle," Suiden replied. He paused a moment to read the signal flags from the vice admiral's ship. "Goods and slaves have already been slipped past our navy—”

"But the smuggling ring has been smashed," Berle objected.

"—and we have no idea what else has been passed through," Suiden finished.

"What do you mean, Your Highness?" Lord Esclaur asked.

"Lord Gherat and his hostages are still missing," Suiden replied.

"You don't know that they are," Berle said. "You don't even know if they went a-sea. As you said yourself, it's just a guess.”

"Someone went out the sea escape," Javes said. "Who do you think it was, Chancellor?”

"I'm not here to think—" Chancellor Berle cut off at Javes' silly ass smile. "You know what I mean." She turned back to Suiden. "Prince Suiden, you must impress upon Vice Admiral Havram the seriousness of this mission and how we can't afford to take little side trips as the whim takes him. Besides, Admiral Noal has ships out looking for whoever is left." She indicated the windriders coming up fast. "I wouldn't be surprised if one has been here and left already.”

"But if one hasn't?" Suiden asked, handing his spyglass to First Lieutenant Falkin. "People and run goods aren't the only things that can be smuggled, Sra Berle. Information also can sieve through, such as there's an important delegation being sent to the Border that includes a chancellor, a Border ambassador, and the king's nearest heir—”

"Not to mention His Royal Highness, nephew to the Amir of Tural," Javes murmured as he swung his quiz glass by its ribbon. "Tell me, Suiden, how close are you to the Turalian succession?”

Suiden shot Javes a glance and then looked back at Chancellor Berle. "We'd be a tasty morsel to snap up, so the vice admiral is making sure our back is covered." The captain turned to First Lieutenant Falkin, who had stood quiet throughout the exchange. "Have the boat put to, Sro Falkin, and be prepared to accompany me to the vice admiral's ship."

"Aye aye, sir.”

Suiden turned back to Chancellor Berle. "The vice admiral's compliments, Sra Berle, and he asks that you and Lord Esclaur please join him for dinner upon the Pearl Fisher.”

The chancellor's wry smile swept across her face. "Please thank the vice admiral for his kind invitation and tell—signal him that I will most certainly attend; the pleasures of his last dinner party were beyond compare." With that, she bowed and left the bridge, Esclaur trailing behind her. I went to follow, but Captain Suiden stopped me.

"A moment, Lieutenant Rabbit." Suiden looked at Falkin. "Inform Ambassador Laurel of the vice admiral's invitation, if you please, Sro Falkin."

"Aye aye, sir."

Captain Suiden waited for his first officer to leave. He then looked back at me. "You're not going but will stay here and attend to your duties."

As my duties consisted mainly of adventures in meditation and rudimentary talent lessons with Laurel Faena, I gaped at my captain. "Sir?"

"First, though, you will report to Lieutenant Groskin."

"Sir?" My eyes went wider.

"That is all, Lieutenant. Dismissed.”

Dazed, I left the quarterdeck, vaguely aware that Captain Javes had accompanied me.

"I understand that Captain Suiden waited an awfully long time while you palavered with your Uncle Havram," Javes remarked as we reached the main deck of the ship.

Jerking my head around, I met his quiz glass aimed at me. I scowled but then thought better of it.

"Just so," Javes said, his yellow wolf's eye gleaming at me through his glass.

I tried politeness. "Whatever do you mean, sir?”

Javes had mercy and let his glass fall. "Your uncle fell on your neck like you were a long lost nephew—”

"I am, sir."

"So you are. But you don't know him any more than you knew your Uncle Maceal or your cousin Teram." Javes gave me a serious look. "Kind words don't necessarily mean a kind man, Rabbit. Do not jump at them like a goose at a currant, or else you may find your neck stretched across the chopping block.”

"But it may be just as he says, sir, that he misses my da and wants to get to know me.”

"That is also true." Javes smiled, all affectation gone. "I know that it has been very hard for you these past weeks, with all the attachments you thought you had turned upside down or severed altogether. The lure of a place to hang words like 'mine' and 'kin' can be almost overwhelming.”

We started walking towards the railing. I caught a flash out of the side of my eye and I turned to look, but it was only Ryson rushing to the railing too. Javes and I stopped at the sound of retching, and changed course, heading towards the foredeck.

"It doesn't help, sir, that everyone either wants to kill me, dismisses me as a provincial, or seems to have a hidden agenda," I said. "Sometimes all three.”

"I suppose not." Javes reverted to his silly bugger smile. "But that's life when you're royally connected, what?"

I judged it best not to answer that.

Javes' smile faded as he watched the sea. "You've called Suiden a dragon—"

"Called, sir?”

"All right, he is a dragon, with fire and talons and everything. Like all dragons, he hoards things, but instead of obsessing over gold and jewels and whatnot, he has his troops." Javes looked over the water, his face pensive. "I think that was what angered him the most about Groskin— and even Ryson. That Slevoic would dare to poach someone who was his." He looked back at me. "You are also Suiden's, Lieutenant, and he will not lose you. Not to some salt dog crying 'Nephew.'"

"He doesn't trust me to make the right decision, sir? To see the true from the false, no matter who claims me kin?”

"Of course he doesn't. You are newly made a lieutenant, just out of your boyhood for all that you shave every morning. Not so long off the farm and fresh out of a little town in the northern marches where the fastest thing is the spring snowmelt running down the mountains." Javes considered me. "To tell the truth, Rabbit, I'm surprised that you haven't had your head turned by the heights you've ascended to recently.”

"Maybe, sir, it's because my parents didn't raise a fool." I was distracted from the frown forming on Captain Javes' face by the glower Chaplain Obruesk threw at me as he stalked by. "Though it may be also because there are those who do their best to make sure I know my place and to keep me there.”

Javes also tracked the chaplain, men turned back to me, his eyes glinting. "Your place? You'd push at God in the face of hell. Tell me, are all in the Border like you?"

I thought a moment. "Pretty much, sir."

"I see." Javes let out a long breath. "Then it should get very interesting when we arrive there." With that, he nodded and strolled away, leaving me to seek out Groskin.

I found the lieutenant in, no surprise, the lieutenants' berth. He had appropriated several lanterns, placing them around his open trunk, and had spread his gear out around him. He saw me and beckoned. "I haven't had a chance to look over my stuff since we left the embassy, and I figured that I'd better make sure that there weren't any of those damn spiders in my locker.”

I had started towards him, but at the mention of the possibility of Pale Deaths, I was back on the ladder at the fourth rung with no memory of rungs one through three.

Groskin gave a slight smile. "Don't like spiders much, do you?”

"No," I said as I sat down. "I understand their purpose in the grand scheme of things, but I don't appreciate them up close and personal.”

"Well, not to worry. There aren't any here." Groskin started packing his gear away in the locker. "Where are your shadows?"

"Jeff's indisposed."

"In the head, huh?”

I nodded as I looked around, searching for my ghost companion. "What the navy considers breakfast gives him the gripes something fierce." Something flickered in the corner. "And there's Basel.”

Groskin looked over at the haunt, hesitated, then nodded. "Didn't see you there, Basel." He went back to packing. "I tell you, trooper, I miss your cooking."

"Fiat," I murmured.

In the silence that fell between us we could hear the dinner party leave for the vice admiral's ship. "Are you sorry you're going to be missing that?" Groskin asked.